


The Life Among the Dead

by Arbryna



Category: Lost Girl
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-01
Updated: 2013-11-10
Packaged: 2017-12-31 04:53:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1027441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arbryna/pseuds/Arbryna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After disappearing into a cloud of black smoke, Bo finds herself in a strange realm, where she comes face to face with the last person she would have expected: her father.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

When the smoke cleared, Bo opened her eyes only to blink in disbelief. She coughed as she caught her breath, letting her eyes roam over her surroundings. She stood in the center of a large, grand hall; the walls were a pale gold, marbled with veins of deep blood red that meandered from floor to ceiling. The polished stone floor was that same crimson color, gleaming as though liquid in the light of the braziers that lined the room. Under her feet was a long gold carpet that stretched out in front of her, climbing the low steps that led up to a dais on which sat three grand thrones. 

The very air felt different here, crackling with energy. Bo could feel it teasing at her fingertips, like she could almost touch it, grasp it, if she only knew how. It felt strong, stronger than any chi she'd ever tasted, and her own hunger rose in response, thrumming urgently in her chest. 

This was definitely not the Dal.

"Where am I?" Bo muttered, turning around to take in the rest of the hall. The carpet stretched all the way to two large doors, currently closed and barred. That didn't bode well. 

"You are in my realm, child." The voice, rich and strangely familiar, echoed loud against the stone walls. 

Bo whirled around, bending to grasp at the top of her boot only to curse herself for not stopping at home for weapons on her way to the Dal. Shit. She straightened, flexing her fists. If it came to a fight, she could always improvise.

The man approaching her didn't appear to have fighting in mind, however. His polished walking stick clacked against the marble floor as he glided toward her from a door carved into the side of the hall. He wore a crisp black suit with a knee-length coat and a crimson tie, and his dark hair was trimmed close to his head, as neatly manicured as his moustache and beard. His aura exuded power, and something darker.

Steeling herself, Bo raised her chin defiantly. "The Wanderer, I presume?"

He merely smiled, a tiny twist of his mouth that only managed to unsettle Bo further. "Some call me that."

"And you have your own realm," Bo continued. Keep him talking. The more she kept him talking, the better her chances of figuring out where she was and how to get home. "What, like Baba Yaga?"

"There's no need to be insulting," he said, coming to a stop a few paces away from Bo. His lips curled up in a sneer. "This is hardly some evil lair designed to punish misbehaving little girls." He gestured grandly to the hall around them, pride infusing his words. "This is a place of gods."

Bo crossed her arms, unimpressed. "I thought all that god stuff was made up for the humans' benefit."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Oh, it was, child." Up close, his dark eyes gleamed in the firelight. His smile faded. "But that doesn't mean it can't become real."

Taking a step backward, Bo laughed nervously. "Okay, I am getting off of this crazy train." She turned around, deciding to take her chances with the doors. 

"Leaving so soon?" he called, but made no move to stop her. "But my child, you've only just arrived."

"Would you stop calling me that?" Bo snapped, whirling around to face him again. "I'm not your child."

His lips turned up again, and the glint in his eyes softened into something almost like affection. "Actually, Isabeau, you are."

Bo's heart froze in her chest as realization sunk in. His voice had been familiar for a reason—she'd heard it before, not too long ago.

***

"Shit," Tamsin groaned, pushing herself to her feet. It didn't take long to recognize the marble walls, or the heavy iron door at the far end of the room. "Double shit," she said, remembering how she'd gotten here. "There goes my truck."

A cough and a groan drew her attention to her cell-mate. "Maybe you shouldn't have driven it off a cliff," Dyson offered, looking around in confusion. 

He was right; she shouldn't have—especially since it clearly didn't work. "I had to try," she replied through her teeth, stalking over to the door. Locked, naturally. Tamsin rested her forehead against the cool metal. There had to be a way out of this. 

"Try what?" Dyson closed the distance between them, grabbing Tamsin's arm and pulling her to face him. "Tamsin, what the hell is going on? Where are we?"

Tamsin sighed, rubbing hard at the bridge of her nose before reluctantly meeting his gaze. "Valhalla."


	2. Chapter 2

Dyson shook his head, skeptical. "Valhalla's just a myth."

"Wrong. It _was_ a myth," Tamsin retorted, turning back to examine the door further. It was firmly closed, and the gleaming red gemstones embedded in the metal were proof enough that it wouldn't open for anyone but _him._ "He made it real. Built it from the ground up with the blood of his enemies." With one last frustrated smack at the door, she turned her attention to the walls. 

"Who's 'he'?"

A dry, humorless laugh caught in Tamsin's throat. After a beat, she glanced back at Dyson. "Bo's father."

***

"You're my father?" The question spilled from Bo's lips, a whisper she hardly dared believe.

His smile grew, and he gave her a brief nod in response. 

She really didn't need an answer, though; she could see herself in the set of his jaw, the slope of his nose, the shape of his eyes. Even deeper than that, she could _feel_ it; some part of her recognized where she came from. It was almost like the feeling she got when she'd first met Aife—that sense of coming home, of belonging—only this time, she knew what it meant. 

Bo's chest swelled with warmth, and moisture sprang to her eyes. This was it—the last piece of her puzzle. She almost couldn't contain the urge to rush toward him, to cling to him and feel his arms solid and real around her. 

But she'd been happy to meet her mother, too—before Aife had tried to kill her. Despite what some might think, Bo actually was capable of learning from past mistakes. "So, what," she said, narrowing her eyes, "you sent me a bounty hunter to make up for all those birthdays you missed?"

He sighed, gesturing with his free hand to the room around them. "I am tied to this place; I cannot leave. I could think of no other way to bring you to me, to meet you." He took a step toward Bo, reaching out to put a hand on her shoulder.

Bo shrugged his hand away, taking a step back. "You could have called," she offered caustically. "Texted. I bet Hallmark has a card for fathers who abandon their daughters and wait thirty years to come around again. You didn't have to send someone to kill me."

Her anger seemed to surprise him; he frowned. "Tamsin was only meant to deliver you to me."

"Oh yeah?" Bo scoffed. "Is that why she held a blade to my throat?" 

That was the wrong train of thought to follow. The memory of Tamsin's face as her resolve crumbled was burned into Bo's mind; she had felt how desperate Tamsin was to keep her away from here, how afraid she was of this man. Had she known who he was to Bo? What had he done to make Tamsin fear him so?

A deep chuckle drew Bo's attention back to her father. "Dead, alive, it matters not. If she had brought me your body, I would have raised you," he said with a shrug. He cocked his head, eyeing her curiously. "I know you've felt my power. You used it to save your wolf friend." 

Bo remembered then, what her mother had said in that cell, what she'd done after her Dawning. The power infusing the air here was just like the power that had raced through her veins as she stood over Dyson's lifeless body. 

"Tamsin said she'd lived with Death," Bo murmured, stunned as the reality of her situation became clear. Her father was more powerful than she could ever have imagined.

"So dramatic," he said with a laugh. "I prefer to go by Odin."

"Why?" Bo asked, furrowing her brow. "That's just your species, right?" Of course, that was assuming anything Ryan had told her was true, which was a big assumption. 

"Oh, I had another name, once upon a time," he conceded. "But I am the last of my kind, and therefore the only one who can claim the title."

"All the others are dead?" Bo asked warily. He didn't seem very torn up about it. 

The smile that spread on his lips sent a chill down Bo's spine. "I'm sure of it."

***

"What do you know about Bo's father?" Dyson asked. Tamsin could feel his eyes boring into her as she continued her examination of their prison.

"Only what I've heard," Tamsin said, turning around to lean back against the wall. She shrugged. "He's not big on sharing."

Dyson's eyes narrowed. "So what have you heard?"

Tamsin's gaze darted around the room, everywhere but Dyson's face. There was a delicate balance here that she had to find, between what Dyson needed to know to help them escape and what might make him go all wolfman on her and tear her to shreds. She'd been nice and ready to die, but not like that.

"He's powerful," Tamsin started, her eyes tracing the veins of marble in the walls. "Like, more powerful than you can imagine. If he wants you dead, all he has to do is look at you and you're history. Then, if he changes his mind, he can bring you back just as easily." 

"What is he?"

"If you ask him, he's a god," Tamsin scoffed. "What he really is, is a crazy, power-hungry son of a bitch. And anyone who crosses him ends up regretting it."


	3. Chapter 3

"If this guy's so powerful, what does he want with us?" Dyson asked. "Why are we here?"

Tamsin sighed and squeezed her eyes shut. She'd been trying to avoid thinking about this, and not just because it meant risking whatever misguided trust Dyson had placed in her. Gods, she could use a drink. "I have no idea why you're here," she said grudgingly, forcing her eyes back open only to stare at the ground. "But I know exactly why I am."

"What do you mean?"

"He's kind of my boss," Tamsin said evasively. She sighed, crossed her arms tightly over her chest. "I was supposed to do a job for him, but…I failed." 

Dyson stepped closer to her, close enough for her to feel the barely restrained anger radiating from his tense shoulders, his clenched fists. "Tamsin, what aren't you telling me? What was this job?"

Screw it. He was going to find out, one way or another. Maybe dying at Dyson's hands would be more pleasant than what Odin had planned for her. "I was supposed to bring him Bo."

Tamsin closed her eyes and awaited death.

***

The corridors were built with more of the same gold and crimson marble, wide enough for Bo and her father to walk side by side. The clack of his walking stick echoed down the empty hallways. He'd said he was taking her to the dining hall, and she hadn't found herself in much of a position to refuse. Something told her those big barred doors in the main hall wouldn't open unless he wanted them to. 

Her mind was in chaos. There were so many questions she wanted to ask him, so many things she wanted to know about where she came from. Trick had told her what he could, but there were things he had no way of knowing. This man, Odin, he could fill in those gaps for her. 

Before she could organize her thoughts into anything resembling sense, they reached a set of grand double doors, like the ones off of the main hall. Without warning, the doors swung inward, opening to a room that seemed more like a fairytale than reality. A huge chandelier hung from the ceiling, glittering with thousands of tiny crystals. Beneath it stretched a table of dark polished wood that could probably seat everyone in Bo's entire hometown. At the far end sat a throne, more modest than those she'd seen earlier but still decidedly more elaborate than the rest of the chairs. 

There were two place settings, down at that end of the table, and a few dishes of food covered with those silver food-cover things that Bo had only ever seen in movies. Candelabras provided extra light, burning bright and steady in the still air. 

Everything was laid out perfectly, but there was no one in sight. How was that possible? Bo turned around to see the two servants who must have opened the doors. Without a word they nodded toward her father and turned to leave. Bo caught only a glimpse of their faces, blank and emotionless—were they thralls, like Aife had? What _was_ he, that he could do that?

"Please," Odin said, gesturing toward the table. "Have a seat." 

Bo eyed the table warily. She didn't really have much of a choice; whatever her father wanted from her, he was likely to be in a better mood if he thought he could get it. Maybe he would let his guard down and she could escape—if she could only figure out how. 

It was no throne, but the chair she settled into was still one of the most comfortable things she'd ever sat in. Deep red velvet cushions padded the rich, dark wood frame, making it feel like she was sitting on a cloud. 

The place setting, however, gave her pause. It was one of those fancy things, with too many different kinds of forks and a red linen napkin folded neatly and held together by a wide gold ring. The fugitive life really hadn't trained her for situations like this.

Odin saw her hesitation and smiled. "No need to concern yourself with the proper etiquette tonight. You will learn in time." 

Well, that was ominous. At least she wouldn't have to worry about which fork to use, which meant she could focus on more important things like getting the fae out of here. 

With a flourish Odin plucked the covers from the food. A large piece of roasted meat adorned one platter, rubbed with spices and gleaming in the candlelight. A selection of roasted vegetables filled another dish, while still another held a crisp salad with dark leafy greens. Bo's mouth watered just looking at it all; she remembered with an ache in her stomach that it had been hours since she last ate. 

Ever the gracious host, Odin picked up Bo's plate and began to fill it with food. When he sat it back down in front of her, she dug in with gusto—but before a bite could pass her lips, she noticed that he hadn't served himself any. Slowly, she put the fork back down on the plate. 

"Don't be silly, child," Odin chuckled. "There would be no point in going to so much trouble to bring you here if I was simply going to poison you." 

He had a point—and she was _really_ hungry, in more ways than one. The fight with Tamsin in Taft's compound had taken a lot out of her, not to mention the fight to get out of there. Bo lifted the fork back to her lips, loosing a small groan when she tasted the meat. It was so much better than the luke-warm pizza she and Kenzi usually ate.

While Bo ate, Odin reached for a gold pitcher that shone in the low light. When he tilted it into his goblet, the liquid that poured out was thick and dark red. Bo's fork paused midway between her plate and her mouth. 

"Is that _blood_?" Bo asked, eyes widening as her nose wrinkled in disgust. 

Odin's laugh was unsettling; something sinister glinted behind the mirth in his eyes. "Don't be absurd. It's only wine; a special blend made right here in Valhalla." 

Bo raised her eyebrows. "Valhalla." 

"Fitting, don't you think?" Odin asked with a quirk of his mouth. He peered at her curiously for a moment before he held out the pitcher to her. "Care to try some?"

It would be a bad idea to get drunk. A really, _colossally_ bad idea. Bo could hear Kenzi's voice in her head, telling her there was a time and place for alcohol and "trapped in Daddy's secret evil lair" wasn't it. Still, it couldn't hurt to try a little. Just enough to take the edge off. 

The liquid was smooth on her tongue, with a sharp, metallic bite that felt familiar somehow. It was definitely wine, but not like any wine Bo had ever had before. It tasted the way the power in this place felt, tingling and electric. As it slid down her throat, she could feel it rejuvenating her in a way that the food didn't come close to. Whatever this stuff was, it was powerful; it made her want _more_.

Odin was watching her carefully, with a gleam in his eyes that Bo couldn't quite read. She put the goblet down. It wouldn't do to get too comfortable, especially since there was still so much she didn't know. 

"Not to your liking?" Odin asked, his tone deceptively casual. 

Apprehension spread tight over Bo's skin; she suppressed a shiver. "It's kind of…strong," she said carefully. 

"An acquired taste," Odin replied, his lips spreading in a smile that felt vaguely sinister. He gestured toward her plate. "Please, have more food."

"I think I'd rather have some answers." Bo nudged her plate away, leaning back in her seat.

"Of course." Odin sat back as well, spreading his open palms as if to say he had nothing to hide. _Yeah, right._ "What do you want to know?"

Bo crossed her arms over her chest. Her heart was pounding anxiously, but she hoped it didn't show. "Tell me about my mother."


	4. Chapter 4

"Aife," Odin sighed. He didn't seem surprised by the question, but he was definitely unsettled. "That is a long story, my child, and a complicated one. It's difficult to know where to begin." 

"I know she was handed over to the Dark after the Great War," Bo said icily. Old anger rose to the surface at the thought of her mother's treatment. "I know she was held prisoner for centuries—that she was tortured, raped. You could start there." 

Odin blinked in what appeared to be genuine surprise. "You don't think I was responsible for that, do you?" 

Bo shrugged, raising an eyebrow as she waited for him to answer. 

"Child, I am the one who freed her from the Dark king's clutches," Odin said earnestly. He sighed. "I only regret that I didn't learn of her sooner. I could have spared her quite a bit of pain." 

Relief trickled into Bo's chest, relaxing some of the tension that gripped her so tightly. Her expression softened. "So why did you rescue her? And how? You said you couldn't leave this place." 

"There are ways around such things," Odin explained. "I brought your mother here the same way I brought you. One of my valkyries was sent to liberate her."

"And the king just handed her over?" Bo asked suspiciously. "From what I've heard about him, he was pretty powerful." 

"Oh, he had his tricks, I'll grant him that." Odin chuckled, but his eyes remained deadly serious. "But his power was nothing compared to mine." 

"Then why weren't you king?" Bo shot back. 

A smile pulled at the corners of Odin's mouth. "It's quite simple, really. To be king, I would have needed to pledge my allegiance to a side. Surely you can understand how I would find that distasteful." 

Bo tried to contain her surprise. "You're unaligned?"

"The very first, to my knowledge," Odin replied. His hands fluttered dismissively. "I've never seen the purpose in dividing ourselves. It only makes us weak." 

Against her better judgment, Bo smiled. "I thought I was the only one who thought that way." 

"Hardly," Odin said with a laugh. Then he sobered, leaning forward with his elbows propped on the table. "Isabeau, the last thing your mother or I wanted was for you to feel alone. I chose to rescue Aife because of how powerful she was; I hoped that together, we could bring change to the Fae world. When we fell in love, and she had you, we dreamed that you would be the savior we needed: the one Fae powerful enough to dismantle the system that so failed us both. You were our hope."

"Sounds cozy," Bo replied, her throat tight. If he was telling the truth, that meant she almost had a very different life—one where her powers didn't carry so much guilt. "But I grew up in a small town, with humans. Not here."

Odin looked down at the table, sighing heavily. "By the time I was able to rescue her, Aife was…unstable, to say the least. I did what I could for her, but she could never really trust me. I could hardly blame her, considering what she'd been through. She was never completely convinced that she hadn't traded one prison for another."

The memory of Aife imprisoned in Taft's compound flashed in Bo's mind. Unstable was the nicest way of putting it.

After clearing his throat, Odin continued. "Somehow, Aife got the idea in her head that I planned to kill you to protect my own power. She disposed of the nurse that was guarding you, and sent you away with the midwife to keep you safe."

"And my mom?" 

"She disappeared," Odin answered, meeting Bo's eyes once more. "I sent people to track her, but she was very good at hiding—and I was far more interested in finding you."

***

Even with her eyes closed, Tamsin could feel the air move, hear the snarl deep in Dyson's throat as his fist rushed toward her. There was a sickening crack as it made impact with the marble next to her head.

It took her a second to realize that he hadn't hit her. Carefully, she opened her eyes. Dyson was still a man, but only just; his eyes were a feral yellow, his bared teeth longer and sharper than they should be. 

He wasn't physically restraining her, though. She could slip out from between him and the wall, gain a comfortable distance, but the intensity of his anger held Tamsin in place. 

"All this time," Dyson said through his teeth, his bicep flexing beside her head. "Being my partner, trying to find justice for your Dark Fae friend—it was all to get to Bo?" 

"No, it—it wasn't as simple as that, Dyson." Tamsin folded her arms over her stomach, her mind racing. She forced herself to hold his gaze, hoping he could somehow read the truth in her eyes. "I didn't even know who my mark was until just before Bo's Dawning. I—I knew I was going to have to bring someone in, but I had no idea it was her, I swear." 

For a long moment Dyson just stared back at her, his face twitching with anger. Tamsin's eyes burned with the threat of tears; she clenched her jaw to hold them in. The weepy damsel routine might work for Bo, but she doubted it would have the same effect for her—not to mention that only one person had seen her cry in the last few _centuries_ , and it damn well wasn't Dyson. 

_I don't care if you kill me, Dyson,_ Tamsin thought, watching Dyson push away from the wall and start to pace. _As long as you save her._

But Dyson didn't kill her—didn't even hit her. When he turned, the anger had faded from his eyes, the wolf from his features. He ran his hands through his hair, let out a deep breath. "Okay, so what do we do?"

"Wait, that's it?" Tamsin's eyes widened, her brow bunching in confusion. "You just…you believe me, and you're not angry as shit? I was trying to abduct Bo!" 

A part of her was a little offended, mostly on Bo's behalf. Dyson supposedly loved Bo—shouldn't he _want_ to kill anyone who tried to hurt her? If Tamsin were in his place…

Well. She didn't need to think about that right now. 

"But you didn't," Dyson pointed out with a smirk. When she only stared at him, he shrugged. "Sorry to disappoint you, Tamsin, but I'm not gonna waste my energy kicking your ass when you seem to be doing a fine job on your own." 

"I am never gonna understand you people," Tamsin scoffed. She shook her head, uncrossing her arms to gesticulate as she spoke. "I lied to you, I lied to Bo, I went behind your backs—"

"If you want recrimination, you're looking at the wrong guy." Dyson shrugged. "I lied to Bo from the minute I met her."

Tamsin gaped. " _You_?"

"About who she was," Dyson explained. "Her mother. It was for her protection, but it ended up doing more damage than if I'd told her the truth from the start." 

"That's _so_ not the same thing. What I did—"

"We all make mistakes, Tamsin." Dyson stepped forward, settling his hands on her shoulders. "And we all have our reasons. Right now what matters is how we get out of this room and get to Bo."

"Well, D-man, this is where _you_ get to be disappointed." Tamsin let out a dry, mirthless laugh. "There is no way out of here—not until he wants to let us out."


	5. Chapter 5

Silence reigned as Bo tried to wrap her head around everything she'd just been told. She'd wanted answers, but she hadn't quite thought ahead to what she'd do with them once they were given. 

"Well, you found me," she finally said, looking at her father warily. "So what now?" 

"Why, we get to know one another, of course," Odin said with a warm smile. "It's well past time we did so, don't you think?"

It was tempting. Bo's chest ached with how much she wanted it—to know her father, to feel that connection, that belonging. Here was everything she'd been wanting since she found out she was fae, and it was almost enough to make her forget why she should refuse. 

But she never had gotten a hold of Trick, and Kenzi had seemed weird last time Bo talked to her—not to mention she'd never met up with Tamsin or Dyson. They must all be worried sick. Her desire for a family reunion could wait until she knew her friends were safe. 

"Not that I don't want to—because I totally do," Bo said. "But I should really be getting home. Things were kinda crazy when I left—well, when you brought me here." 

Odin was silent, his expression unreadable. Bo felt adrenaline creep back into her veins, and she held her breath as she waited for him to respond. 

He smiled, albeit a bit sadly. "I understand," he said with a small nod. "But it's late. Surely you can afford to get a good night's rest before you return?" 

Bo hesitated. She wasn't sure she could get out of here without Odin's help—and if she was too eager to leave him, he might not offer it. 

"I guess a few hours couldn't hurt," she conceded. 

"Wonderful," Odin said, his smile brightening. "I've got a room all made up for you. I think you'll like what Valhalla has to offer." 

***

Tamsin paced the length of the cell for the hundredth time, stopping mid-way to check the door again. Still locked—as if she expected anything else. She let out a frustrated huff, resting her forehead on the metal as her open palm smacked uselessly against it. 

"If there's no way out of here, then why don't you stop pacing?" Dyson asked. "There's no point in freaking out."

"Isn't that my line?" Tamsin replied through gritted teeth. Whirling around, she shot him a glare. He was just sitting there, reclined against the cell wall like he'd already given up. "Why aren't you freaking out too, D-man? Who knows what he's doing to Bo?"

Dyson's brow tightened at her words, his lip curling up into a sneer. "Believe me, I want nothing more than to rip that door from its hinges right now."

"So why don't you?" Tamsin shot back, panic edging her voice. "It'd be a hell of a lot more useful than just sitting on your ass!" 

"Because I _can't_ ," Dyson replied. He looked none too happy about it. "I'm still weak, and even at full strength I can't tear apart a solid iron door."

Tamsin scowled, crossing her arms over her chest. He had a point, but that didn't mean she was going to admit it.

"Look, Tamsin," Dyson said calmly. "Driving ourselves crazy isn't going to help Bo. What _will_ help is figuring out a plan."

Sighing, Tamsin raised an eyebrow. "Fine," she said. "So where do we start?"

"You can start by telling me everything you know about this place—and Bo's father." 

"Well, that shouldn't take too long," Tamsin said dryly. "I don't know much. But what I do know? That guy is bad news."

***

The room Odin had prepared for Bo could have fit the entire crack shack with room to spare. It was lavish to the point of excess, with finely crafted mahogany furniture and a plush red carpet covering most of the marble floor. The bed was huge, larger than a king for sure, and covered with a fluffy gold comforter that was probably worth more than Kenzi's entire shoe collection. She had a sneaking suspicion that she would find silk sheets as well. 

"I am loving the color scheme," Bo quipped, trying to conceal her awe. "It's very Gryffindor." 

Odin just frowned, confused. Bo couldn't blame him; she wouldn't have even made the connection if Kenzi hadn't made her watch those movies. 

"It's amazing," Bo said after a moment. She didn't want him to think she was ungrateful or anything. "Really, it's—it's nicer than anything I've ever had before." 

"An error I intend to rectify," Odin replied, the smile returning to his lips. "My daughter deserves nothing but the best."

It was so weird, hearing him say that word. Weird to think that she had a father, and one who was more interested in getting to know her than he was in some crazed revenge plot. At least, that's what it seemed like so far; she had to keep reminding herself that she wasn't sure she could trust him, or his intentions. 

"There's a bath through there," Odin said, gesturing to a door at the far end of the room. "And you should find something in the dressers to sleep in. Is there anything else you need?"

 _To feed_ , her body reminded her. Hunger rose in her blood, heating her cheeks. She glanced to the side and caught a glimpse of her reflection in an ornate gold-framed mirror; her eyes were glowing faintly blue. She hadn't fed since the fight with Tamsin, and what she'd gotten then had barely been enough to keep her on her feet. 

Not to mention the fact that her hunger felt sharper here, her control shakier. But it wasn't like Valhalla was teeming with options, and Bo really wasn't keen on the idea of feeding off of her father. She'd gone without before, for a lot longer; she could do it again. 

"No," she replied with a tight smile. "I should be good." 

He returned her smile warmly, reaching out to rest his hands on her shoulders. His skin was unnaturally cold against her own, a bone-deep chill that reminded Bo of death. She suppressed a shiver.

"You've had a long day, child," Odin said, leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead. "Rest now. We'll talk more in the morning." 

She waited until the door closed behind Odin to turn around and take in the room with a sigh. Even with hunger simmering in her veins, she could feel her muscles crying out with fatigue.

"Long day" didn't even begin to cover it.


	6. Chapter 6

The marble chilled Tamsin's skin through her clothes as she sank down to the floor, leaning back against the wall. As much as she wanted to keep pacing, to rid herself of some of this nervous energy, to at least be _doing_ something, Dyson had a point: conserving their strength might just make the difference between victory and defeat.

"What do you think he wants with Bo?" Dyson asked. 

"I wish I knew." Tamsin grimaced and curled her hands into tight fists, resting them on her knees. "Whatever it is, it has to be bad. I've never seen anything good happen to someone he takes an interest in." 

Dyson's brow tightened. "Does he take an interest in a lot of people?"

"You could say that," Tamsin said with a dry chuckle. She'd lost count of how many marks she'd delivered over the centuries—and she was hardly the only valkyrie working for him. 

"So what does happen to them?" Dyson pressed. 

Ice seeped into Tamsin's veins just thinking about it. "Trust me Dyson, you do _not_ want to know."

***

Bo stepped out of the bathroom feeling a lot more relaxed. She'd been tempted to skip the bath and just go right to sleep, but once she'd seen the enormous tub with all of its jets, she hadn't been able to resist. The robe she slipped on afterward was the finest silk she'd ever felt; the way it clung to her skin, she was reluctant to trade it out for any other pajamas, but she suspected she'd find something of equal quality in one of the many drawers.

She was just about to start rummaging when there was a knock on the door. A frown tugged at her lips; did her father forget something? 

"I'm not exactly expecting guests," she muttered to herself, padding her way over to pull open the door. 

Guests were exactly what she had, it seemed. Two of them, in fact: a voluptuous woman with rich mahogany skin and a tall, well-muscled man whose bare chest gleamed in the light from the lamps on the walls. They appeared to be sharing a set of pajamas between them; the red silk pants hung low around his waist, while the hem of the matching shirt barely grazed the top of her thighs. They wore matching smiles, subtle and seductive, though their eyes were curiously devoid of emotion. 

"Daddy sure gives good gifts," Bo commented, reflexively opening the door wider to let them in. There was something off about these two, but the beast inside of her was raging to the surface. Under normal circumstances, Bo's tireless training would have let her resist the temptation long enough to think more critically about the situation.

These were not normal circumstances though, and Bo was _hungry_. Her tongue snaked out to moisten her lips as she watched them walk into the room, her eyes following every curve and flex of muscle. 

The click of the door closing was distant, muffled by the hunger buzzing in Bo's ears. She advanced on the woman first, sliding her hands up over silk and curling her fingers in the lapels of her shirt. Their lips crashed together, slick and warm, and Bo took a deep pull of the woman's chi; it was smooth, electric—and vaguely familiar.

Not to mention human. Bo pulled back with a frown, struggling to control her hunger. Before she could do or say anything the man was pressing at her back, his hands sliding around her waist to loosen the belt of her robe as he nibbled at her neck. She groaned, leaning back against his firm chest as the woman ducked her head to kiss down the other side of her throat. 

It was too much. Bo felt her conscience sink beneath the haze of desire, felt the succubus take control. She whirled around, tugging the man's head down so she could meet his lips. Soft breasts crushed against her back as slender fingers crept up her thighs, adding fuel to the dizzying ache pressing against the underside of her skin.

The man was just as human, but Bo registered it only as a distant afterthought. Her fingers curled in his hair, holding him firmly in place as she drank deeply of his chi. 

Far too soon, he sagged against her, his knees buckling. Panic sparked in her chest as she looped her arms under his shoulders, lowering him to the floor. His head lolled back against the carpet, eyes open and unseeing, lips stretched into an all too familiar smile. 

He was dead. 

"No," Bo murmured. Her desire dulled in the face of what she'd just done. She knelt at his side, frantically checking for any possible sign of life. "No, no, no…"

The woman knelt too, still intent on touching Bo. It was like she didn't have any kind of reaction whatsoever to seeing someone killed right in front of her. Bo batted the hands away without looking, leaned over to press her lips to the lifeless man's. 

It took little more than a thought to summon the chi from deep in her chest. Pink wisps floated down into the man's mouth, hopefully breathing him back to life.

"Thank god," Bo breathed, relief flooding her chest as a cough shook the man's frame. She sat back on her heels and tried to slow her heart's racing. 

She hadn't taken that much, had she? It hadn't felt like she was feeding for very long—not nearly long enough to be fatal, even for a human. It had to be this place, Valhalla—she felt stronger here, more powerful than she had anywhere else. 

Bo's thoughts were interrupted by two mouths pressing against her skin, four hands roaming as eagerly as before. She shoved them away, stumbling to her feet and pulling her robe back around herself. 

They looked at her with cocked heads, uncomprehending. The emptiness in their eyes hadn't bothered her before, hadn't been able to break through the haze of her hunger, but now it chilled her to the bone.

"You know," Bo said shakily. "It was nice of Odin to send me a bedtime snack and all, but I think you should go now."

For a moment they both seemed unsure. They rose to their feet in unison, stepping toward Bo, but she backed away and pointed to the door. Together they turned and walked out. 

"Nothing like a little murder to spoil your appetite," Bo sighed, leaning against the door once they'd gone. Her first instinct was to run to Kenzi, to spill the whole story with her head in her friend's lap and well-manicured nails raking through her hair. 

But Kenzi wasn't here—a thought that made Bo's chest ache. She would just have to make it to the morning, and hopefully by this time tomorrow she'd be back in her cozy little derelict house, in her own bed. 

Just one night.


	7. Chapter 7

Morning came sooner than Bo expected. She'd only curled up on the bed to rest, but it appeared she had underestimated her fatigue; she woke up to bright sunlight filtering in through curtained windows she hadn't noticed the night before. 

She sat up in bed, stretching her arms out and curling them behind her head. It wasn't the most rested she'd ever felt, but she was a lot stronger than she should be. If she'd understood everything right, Odin's power was tied to this place, made stronger by it; maybe it worked the same for his children. 

That would explain last night. Horror still lingered in the pit of her stomach when she thought of how easily she'd killed that man—not to mention the creepy zombie-like emptiness in the eyes of her "visitors". 

Slipping out of bed, Bo headed to the bathroom where she'd left her clothes last night. She couldn't decide what she wanted more—answers, or just to get the fae out of here—but getting dressed and meeting her father for breakfast was the first step toward either one.

***

"Tamsin?" Dyson's groggy voice tore Tamsin from her thoughts, and she glanced over at him with aching eyes. "How long was I out?"

"A few hours?" Tamsin answered with a weary shrug. "Maybe more. I lost track."

Dyson sighed, pushing himself back up to a sitting position. "You were supposed to wake me up so you could get some sleep."

"Wasn't tired," Tamsin said, turning her eyes back to the ground. Truthfully, she didn't think she'd be able to sleep if she tried. "Figured one of us might as well be rested."

A pause. "You're really worried, aren't you?" 

Tamsin scoffed. "I think I'm entitled, considering I'm only alive because he hasn't decided to kill me yet." 

"No," Dyson said thoughtfully, studying her. "You're not worried about you. You're not even worried about me." 

Every muscle in Tamsin's body tensed as she raised her head to glare at him. "What, are you psychic now?"

Knowledge flickered in his eyes. "I didn't know you cared so much about Bo." 

"Who said I did?" Tamsin shot back. Her heart thundered in her ears. 

Dyson shook his head, a sad smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You're in love with her." 

The words hit her like a sledgehammer to the chest, robbing her of breath. She wanted to laugh, to deny it, but what would be the point? He'd know she was lying. 

Shit, she was probably going to die here anyway. She raised her eyes to meet his gaze. "Can you blame me?"

***

It was surprisingly easy for Bo to find her way back to the dining hall. She was worried that she wouldn't remember all the twists and turns they'd taken last night to get to her room, but somehow she just _knew_ which way to go. She could feel it, like a slight tugging in her gut that pulled her in the right direction.

Soon she reached the familiar large double doors to the dining hall. She'd barely raised her hand to knock when the doors swung open away from her. This time, the servants who had opened it didn't bother to scurry away. Bo's stomach lurched uneasily as she recognized the blank expressions on their faces. They were definitely thralls. 

Odin greeted her with a smile from his place at the head of the table. "Good, you're up," he said, waving her closer. "Come, breakfast is all ready for you." 

Bo warily sidestepped the servants at the door, making her way over to the seat she'd had last night. As Odin had said, breakfast was all laid out: dishes of scrambled eggs and bacon, pancakes and sausage, a platter piled high with flaky croissants. And like last night, Odin again had only a goblet in front of him, and that gold carafe of wine. 

"I'm beginning to see where Tamsin picked up her drinking habits," Bo remarked dryly, sinking into her chair.

His eyes darkened at hearing Tamsin's name, and Bo felt a pang of worry sharp in her chest. Tamsin's words echoed in her head. _"No, I've cursed us. You have no idea. He's gonna come after us."_

Tamsin was more afraid of this man than she was of death—and seeing that darkness in his eyes, Bo could almost understand why. Then in an instant it was gone, his eyes warm and brown once again. 

"This sustains me better than any food could," Odin said, bringing the goblet to his lips. After taking a sip, he gestured with his free hand toward the carafe. "You are, of course, welcome to have some." 

"It's a little early for me," Bo replied. She remembered how it tasted, the craving it sparked deep inside her; after last night's loss of control, she was even more reluctant to tempt fate. "Coffee would be better."

Odin shrugged. "Whatever suits you, child." He nodded to one of the servants, who promptly left the room through a door that appeared to lead to the kitchen. Then he turned back to Bo, gesturing toward the dishes of food. "Please, help yourself. You must be hungry." 

There was something about his expression, or the way he said it—like he wanted her to know that he was aware of her sending her little midnight snack away. Bo shifted in her seat, turning her eyes to the food just to avoid her father's gaze. 

"There's no need to be nervous," he assured her. "If my gift offended, it's my own fault. I was overly presumptuous." 

"I wasn't offended," Bo said with a frown. "Confused, maybe. I didn't expect humans."

"You feed off of other fae?" Odin asked, sounding pleasantly surprised. 

Bo met his eyes again; they glittered with an interest that felt more than a little dangerous. "Only consensually," she said pointedly. 

"Of course. I never meant to imply otherwise." He took another sip of his wine. "So you found their species not to your liking?" 

"No, it's just—it's harder. To control myself, to not…kill." Guilt pressed at her chest, dull and familiar, as she fiddled with the napkin on her plate. That man last night was hardly the first human she'd killed; he was just lucky she knew how to bring people back now. "I've gotten better at it, but last night…it happened so fast." 

Odin set down his goblet, leaning over to cover her hands with one of his own. "It's because you're my daughter, Isabeau," he explained gently. "Your powers are stronger here, the same as mine. You simply need some time to adjust." 

Time. That was the one thing she didn't have. Bo pulled her hands out from under his, settled them on her lap. "That's great and all, but I don't plan on being here long enough for that." Odin's expression dimmed, and Bo rushed to continue. "Don't get me wrong. I am so happy to finally meet you. I've dreamed about it."

The pause that followed was tense, stretching on as Odin's brow drew tight together. "But?" he finally prompted, his voice edged with displeasure.

Bo inhaled deeply, gathering her nerve. "But I have a life back in my world, people I love who are counting on me. I can't just stay here and forget all about them." 

He scoffed. "A grandfather who lied to you, who condemned your mother to centuries of torture. Humans, who will be dead in a hundred years while you are still in your prime."

"All the more reason to be with them now," Bo pointed out stubbornly. "And it's not just humans," she added as an afterthought.

"Right, the wolf," Odin said, nodding. "You care deeply for him."

"Dyson's my _friend_ ," Bo said defensively. Oddly enough, it hadn't even been Dyson she was thinking of—but she could figure out when Tamsin had become so important to her later, when she was away from this place.

"There's no need to lie," Odin chided. "I know there's more to it than that." 

"Okay, fine." Bo was starting to get irritated. She just wanted to go home. "So it's complicated. Life is complicated. I'd like to get back to mine."

He raised an eyebrow at her tone. "You're in quite a hurry to get back to your _friend_ ," he said, sounding a little perturbed himself. "What makes you so sure he's even there to return to?"

A chill crawled up Bo's spine. She narrowed her eyes. "Why wouldn't he be?" 

The servant chose that moment to return to the table, carrying a tray that held a gleaming gold coffee pot and one of those fancy glass coffee mugs. With his free hand, the servant set the mug on the table in front of Bo. When he moved to start pouring, though, the coffee pot collided with the glass, knocking it over. 

"Shit!" Bo jumped as the glass shattered against the table. The servant's movements were slow and jerky as he moved to clean it up. She reached over to help, plucking one of the larger shards of glass off of the table. "Here, let me—ow!" 

They'd both reached for the same piece of glass; Bo was faster, and the servant's hand only succeeded in pushing her own against the sharp edge. Bo drew her hand back, examining the cut that stretched across two centimeters of her palm. Drops of blood shone on the table. 

"Let me do that," Odin said, standing up to take over the task. His gaze flicked to her as he picked up shards of glass one by one and placed them in his napkin. "Are you all right, child? Are you badly hurt?" 

"No." Bo shook her head, unrolling her own napkin and wrapping it around her hand. It hurt, but it was hardly the worst wound she'd ever suffered. "No, it's fine."

"Are you sure?" Odin swept the last of the glass into his napkin and bundled it up, wiping at the blood before handing the whole thing off to the servant. "I can summon a servant if you need to heal yourself."

"I said I'm fine," Bo said archly, watching Odin share a long look with his servant before sending him away. She wasn't going to let herself be distracted so easily. "Why wouldn't I find Dyson?"

Odin sighed, sinking back into his chair. When he met Bo's eyes again, his expression made her feel even more uneasy. "Because he's here."


	8. Chapter 8

"What do you mean he's _here_?" Bo asked through her teeth, clutching the napkin tightly in her hand. "Why? _How_?" 

"I could have let him die, but I assumed you wouldn't be happy with me if I did that." Odin shrugged, steepling his fingers in front of him. His eyes seemed harder now, his smile more threatening. "As to how, well…I'm allowed to have _some_ secrets, am I not?" 

Bo stood up. "Where is he?" 

"He's quite safe, I assure you," Odin replied. He motioned to all the dishes of food. "Why don't you sit back down and have something to eat, and I'll have someone fetch him?"

"Suddenly I'm not really hungry," Bo snapped. She couldn't think of any reason he would have to hide this from her. It seemed like dear old Dad was trying to manipulate her, treating her like nothing more than a piece in whatever game he was playing. She'd had more than enough of that from the Fae, thank you very much. "Take me to him." 

Odin hesitated before letting out a nervous little laugh. "You need your strength, child. Just have a bite or two. It won't take long for him to be brought up—"  
Bo swept her arm across the table, knocking several dishes onto the ground. Her eyes locked onto her father's. "I said I wasn't hungry. If you won't bring me to Dyson, I'll find him myself." 

She stormed out of the dining hall, her boots clacking loudly against the marble floor. It seemed like an impossible task, finding Dyson in this place that was almost certainly larger than it looked—but like before, she felt something guiding her in the direction she wanted to go. It was almost like the walls themselves were speaking to her, only she didn't hear anything. 

"I'm coming, Dyson," she muttered to herself as her feet carried her to her destination.

***

The silence was suffocating. Dyson hadn't said anything since Tamsin's roundabout confession, and it was going to start driving her crazy pretty damn soon. She hadn't gone into this mission intending to make friends, but she had to admit that Dyson had gotten to be pretty important to her. Now he must hate her—as if trying to kill the woman he loved wasn't bad enough, now she also had these stupid _feelings_ too.

"You don't have to worry," Tamsin finally said, fixing her eyes on the floor. "It's not like I'm gonna try to steal her or anything."

"It doesn't work that way," Dyson said with a sad chuckle. "Bo follows her heart, wherever it might lead her. She can't be stolen."

Tamsin frowned. "Well, you're still safe then. She'd never want me for anything more than a feed."

"You might be surprised," Dyson said. Tamsin looked up at him, fighting the traitorous spark of hope that his words had kindled. His expression was thoughtful, and a little resigned. He offered her a weak smile. "But be careful. If she sets her sights on you, good luck changing her mind." 

"I doubt that'll be an issue," Tamsin said, rolling her eyes. "My time's almost up, wolf-man. I won't be around long enough to be a problem for anyone." 

"Tamsin—" Dyson started. He was cut off by the muffled sound of footsteps, the bright glow of the red gems set in the door. 

Tamsin was on her feet in an instant. If this was her time to die, she was going to go down fighting.

***

Bo's eyes widened as the door lit up under her touch. Apparently it hadn't just been wishful thinking; this place responded to her like it did to her father, recognizing the blood flowing in her veins.

Almost as soon as the door opened, Bo found herself thrown off-balance by an armful of valkyrie. 

"You're okay," Tamsin murmured, clinging to Bo as if convincing herself that Bo was really here. 

It was like Brazenwood all over again, except this time Tamsin didn't kiss her. That was good, considering that a brief scan of the room—the _cell_ —revealed that Dyson was also present. He was looking at them both with a strange, knowing look on his face; Bo looked away. 

"I'm fine," Bo said, reaching up to awkwardly return the embrace. It wasn't that she didn't like being so close to Tamsin; if anything, she found herself enjoying it more than she should—which was _so_ not something she needed to be thinking about right now. "But we need to get out of here." 

Tamsin tensed and backed away from Bo, looking suddenly very interested in the floor. Bo crossed her arms over her stomach and tried to focus on the task at hand.

"You're hurt," Dyson said, stepping closer. 

Bo looked down at her hand, still wrapped in the napkin from breakfast. "It's just a scratch. I've had worse." 

"If you're taking on Daddy dearest, you need to be at full strength," Tamsin said, reluctantly meeting Bo's gaze. There was a dark sort of resignation in her eyes. "You can feed off of me." 

"I'm not gonna do that," Bo said, shaking her head. Tamsin was already on borrowed time—she wasn't going to make it worse. "I told you, I'm fine."

"Tamsin's right, Bo," Dyson said gently. "You need to heal." 

Rolling her eyes, Bo stepped closer to Dyson. "Fine," she said, reaching up to tangle her fingers in his hair. Dyson was strong, he could spare the small amount of chi it would take to heal this stupid cut. Bo took a small, careful swallow, just enough to stitch the skin of her palm back together, then pushed him away before she could take too much. 

"Wow," Dyson said, coughing a little. "That was…different."

"Apparently I'm more powerful here," Bo explained, tossing the bloodstained napkin to the floor. "Which I would find fascinating if it weren't for the fact that I just found out my dad has been keeping you two prisoner for the last day." 

"Girl's got priorities," Tamsin cracked. "Gotta give her that." 

"Yeah, and right now my priority is to get the fae out of here," Bo retorted. 

"We pretty much just ended up here," Dyson said, keeping an eye on the door. "Do you know the way out?"

Bo took a deep breath, thinking of those massive doors in the grand hall she'd originally landed in. "I have an idea."

"It's better than we've got," Dyson said with a shrug. "Let's get going."

Bo turned to follow him out the door, but stopped when she realized Tamsin wasn't doing the same. She looked back at Tamsin, raising her eyebrows in question. "You coming?"

Tamsin shrugged, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. "No point. I'm gonna be dead soon anyway. I'll just slow you down." 

Closing the distance between them, Bo reached out and grabbed Tamsin's shoulders. "We are _all_ getting out of here," she said. "Now get your geriatric ass in gear." 

Despite everything, Tamsin laughed. "Oh man, baby fae, you are just asking for a beatdown." 

"You can give it to me later," Bo promised, giving Tamsin an encouraging shove toward the door. 

They didn't make it very far before they were stopped in their tracks. At the other end of the corridor stood Odin, followed by a dozen or so of his thralls, staring blankly ahead.

Odin looked pissed. "My child, I think we need to have a talk about manners."


	9. Chapter 9

"You wanna talk manners?" Bo shot back, scanning her surroundings. There weren't very many options for escape, and Odin was of course blocking the fastest route to the main hall. "It's not exactly polite to keep your daughter's friends prisoner." 

"Would you rather I'd left them to die at the bottom of that cliff, in the wreckage of Tamsin's truck?" Odin's gaze shifted past Bo, locking onto Tamsin. "My dear valkyrie, you should know better than to try to kill the man who pays your bills." 

Bo's eyes widened; clearly there was a lot to this story that she didn't know yet. She could ask Tamsin all about it later though—when they were safe. "So you saved them, fine. Thank you," Bo said grudgingly. "But we're leaving now."

Odin sucked in a deep breath. "I was afraid we would run into this problem." 

"You said—"

"Child, I said that you could leave, and you are welcome to do so at any time. You can even take the wolf with you." Odin waved toward the corridor behind him. When he looked back at them, his eyes darkened. "But Tamsin is mine to deal with."

The threat in his voice made it quite clear how he would be _dealing_ with Tamsin. Bo shifted to the side, putting herself between her father and Tamsin. "I'm not leaving without her." 

Behind her, Tamsin quietly cleared her throat. "Bo—"

"No," Bo said over her shoulder. "You're coming with us and that's final."

Odin shook his head in a mocking kind of sympathy. "I'm afraid I can't let you do that."

"Well, I'm afraid you don't have a choice," Bo retorted. 

"So be it," Odin said with a shrug. Around him, the thralls began to straighten up, their features twisting into generic expressions of anger. 

"It's not the humans you have to worry about," Tamsin murmured softly at Bo's shoulder. 

"Oh, yeah?" Bo replied, her eyes still fixed ahead. "What is?"

There was a growl then, behind them. It was close—too close. Tamsin's voice was tight as she answered. "Them." 

Bo turned to see a small group of what were decidedly fae. Unlike the human thralls, with their blank eyes and zombie-like obedience, these fae were clearly in control of themselves. 

Beside her, Dyson growled as his features shifted. On the other side, Tamsin reached up to tie her hair into a knot on the back of her head. Bo flexed her hands, wishing again that she had some sort of weapon. 

Oh, well. She _was_ a weapon; that would have to be enough. 

The fae attacked first, in a flurry of fire and claws. It quickly became clear that they were targeting Tamsin; Dyson had to keep pulling them off of her, ripping them apart with his claws. 

Bo helped him until she was tugged away by countless hands, grasping and pulling. The thralls were trying to keep her from helping. Angrily, Bo turned and faced them, letting go of the restraint she'd been clinging to ever since she got here. 

The thralls froze all at once as their chi was ripped from them, draining out of their mouths and infusing Bo with power. It was a matter of seconds before they were tapped out, and they all fell limp to the ground. 

Odin watched from afar, not lifting a finger to help his minions. Bo frowned and turned back to find Dyson fighting off a goblin. Tamsin was locked in battle with a fire fae that kept trying to burn her with his hands. The rest of the fae were either dead or unconscious at their feet. Bo moved toward Tamsin, but before she could offer any kind of help the fire fae abruptly stopped fighting. 

"That's right," Tamsin said in a low voice. Her hands shook at the fire fae's shoulders. "You don't want to fight me. You want to take a nap." 

Tamsin's opponent slumped to the ground, unconscious. The goblin Dyson was fighting squealed in pain as Dyson's claws raked across its chest; bleeding profusely, it collapsed in a heap among the other bodies. 

All was silent. Bo looked around, only to find her father nowhere in sight. "He's gone." 

"He'll be back," Tamsin groaned, trying to brace herself against the wall. Her knees buckled beneath her and she slid to the ground.

"Tamsin," Bo gasped, dropping to her knees. "Hang on, okay? We'll be out of here before you know it."

In human form once again, Dyson set a hand on Bo's shoulder. "I can carry her. But she's right, Bo—we need to move." 

When he tried to slide his arm around her, though, Tamsin batted his hands away. "Just go," she said weakly. "I've already lasted longer than I should have." 

Bo's heart seized with panic. She nudged Dyson out of the way, cupping Tamsin's face with both hands. "You are _not_ dying any time soon." 

Without a second thought, Bo pressed her lips firmly to Tamsin's. It hadn't worked before, but maybe, with the power boost these walls gave her—maybe now it would. She summoned all of her energy and focused on pouring it into Tamsin's mouth, praying all the while that it would stick. 

When she was finished, Bo pulled back and anxiously searched Tamsin's face, waiting for the chi to escape like it did the last time. 

It didn't. Tamsin drew a deep breath, her eyes wide. "Whoa." 

"Bo," Dyson said, cocking his head like he heard something. "We need to go, _now_."

Nodding, Bo rose to her feet. She held a hand out to Tamsin, who rolled her eyes but took it nonetheless. Together, the three of them set off down the corridor.

***

The trip back to the main hall was eerily quiet. No one came after them, and they encountered no resistance. Bo had a heavy feeling in her heart as she approached the large double doors. If it had been this easy to get here, then this probably wouldn't work.

Tilting her head, Bo took a deep breath. "Worth a shot."

She pressed her palms flat against the doors, felt the iron warm under her touch. The red gems embedded in the iron glowed bright, and slowly the bars slid aside. The heavy iron doors opened inward, revealing a swirling red portal. 

For a moment she just stared at it. Did that really just happen? 

"Come on, Succulette," Tamsin said, nudging Bo's arm. After a quick look back at Dyson, Bo faced the portal and jumped.

***

They found themselves back in the Dal Riata, landing hard amidst broken glass and splinters of wood.

"That was easy," Bo remarked, pushing to her feet and brushing off her pants. 

"Too easy," Tamsin replied uneasily. "He could have stopped us but he didn't."

She had a point, and it was one Bo really didn't want to face. "Well, we can worry about that later," Bo said, reaching out to squeeze Tamsin's arm. "What matters right now is that we made it. We're home."

"Right," Tamsin said with a bitter chuckle. "Home."


	10. Chapter 10

The sound of the front door opening jarred Kenzi from the half-asleep state Bruce's foot massage had lulled her into. She was up like a shot, pulling her feet out of his lap and barreling toward the door. Bo had barely stepped inside before Kenzi firmly attached herself. 

"Bo-Bo, where have you—" Before Kenzi could properly begin her barrage of questions, her eyes fell on Bo's guest. She tensed, drew back so that Bo was solidly in between them. "What is _she_ doing here?" 

"Relax, Kenz." Bo glanced at Tamsin before meeting Kenzi's gaze again. "It's a long story, but she's on our side." 

Kenzi's eyes opened wide in disbelief. "Bo, she tried to _kill_ you!" 

"No she didn't," Bo replied quickly, then hesitated. "Well, okay, she did, a little. But she's a good guy now." 

"She's Dark fae," Kenzi scoffed, crossing her arms. "She couldn't be good if she tried." 

"I'm right here, you know," Tamsin cut in irritably. "I _can_ hear you." 

Bo sighed. "Look, Kenz, I am exhausted. I'll explain everything to you in the morning, but for now just trust me. She's not a threat." 

Eyeing Tamsin warily, Kenzi shrugged. "It's your call, Bo-Bo. Just be careful." 

"Always am," Bo replied with a smile. She pulled Kenzi back in for another hug. "You have no idea how glad I am to be home. I missed you." 

Kenzi melted into the embrace, reassuring herself that Bo really was back. "I missed you too," she murmured, laying her head on Bo's shoulder. 

After a moment, Bo pulled away, her attention fixed on the couch. "Who's your friend?" Her eyes narrowed. "Wait—didn't I kick your ass once?" 

"Hey! I helped, remember?" Kenzi smacked Bo on the arm before following Bo's gaze. "Brucie here helped me escape the Morrigan's badly-manicured clutches. I told him he could crash on the couch while he figures out his next move." 

While Bruce waved awkwardly from the couch, Kenzi gave Bo her best puppy-dog begging look; even though they pretty much shared this place, she always felt like it was more Bo's than hers. 

"Of course! Any friend of Kenzi's is welcome," Bo said with a smile. 

Tamsin cleared her throat, looking at the floor. "Well, it looks like you're pretty full up here. I'll just go—"

"Go where, exactly?" Bo interjected, turning to face Tamsin. "You were living in your truck, Tamsin, and now that's not even an option." 

"I'm a big girl," Tamsin said with a half-hearted shrug. "I'll figure something out." 

Bo stepped closer to Tamsin, reaching out for her hand. "Come on," Bo urged quietly, tugging at Tamsin's hand. "My bed is plenty big enough for two." 

Kenzi had the strange, familiar feeling that she had suddenly become invisible. Bo said something a while back about a kiss, but even still—the tension between those two was potent. 

"See you in the morning, Kenz." Bo reached out with her free hand to squeeze Kenzi's shoulder as she passed, leading Tamsin toward the stairs. Kenzi watched, wide-eyed, until they disappeared, then numbly walked back over to the couch.

"Did that just happen?" Kenzi asked, sinking down into the seat she'd abandoned earlier. "Tell me that didn't just happen." 

"I think it's sweet," Bruce said with a smile, pulling Kenzi's feet back into his lap. "Love is a beautiful thing." 

"Whoa, hold up," Kenzi raised her hands defensively. "Who said anything about love?"

Bruce chuckled and resumed kneading Kenzi's feet. "You couldn't see it? There's definitely something there. I've only known Tamsin for a little while, but she's changed lately. I'd bet good money that Bo's the reason why."

Kenzi groaned, sinking back into the cushions to enjoy her foot rub. "Oh, Bo-Bo," she sighed. "One of these days you'll date someone that won't lie to you or try to kill you or something." 

After a beat, Kenzi laughed and shook her head. "Who am I kidding? I'd better start stocking up on Piles-O-Pecans."

***

Tamsin stood awkwardly in the doorway as Bo rummaged through her drawers. She shouldn't be here. Shit, she shouldn't be _alive_ , but here she was. Because of Bo. That damn succubus just wouldn't take no for an answer.

Not that Tamsin particularly wanted to say no. She couldn't really think of any place she'd rather be; she cringed at the thought. She wasn't built for this shit. 

"Here," Bo said, turning around with a handful of clothes. "They should fit okay. We'll have to work on getting you a new wardrobe, since yours went over the cliff with your truck."

Tamsin rolled her eyes and took the clothes. "Don't worry your pretty head about me, Succulette. Like I said, I can take care of myself." 

"I never said you couldn't," Bo retorted, raising an eyebrow. Her expression softened. "But sometimes it can be nice to let someone else take care of you. A friend." 

"A friend," Tamsin repeated with a dry chuckle. "Haven't had one of those in a long time." 

"Well now you do." Bo stepped closer, and for a heart-stopping instant Tamsin thought she was going to move in for a kiss. She only reached up to rub a little at Tamsin's shoulder. "Now get changed, because that bed is seriously calling my name." 

At first Tamsin just stood there, uncertain. Should she go to the bathroom to change? She'd already seen Bo naked, sure—the image was burned into her mind—but that hadn't been completely consensual. Bo might want her privacy.

Or maybe she didn't. Tamsin's eyes widened a little as Bo turned her back and slipped off her shirt. Her mouth went dry, and she felt her cheeks flush with heat. She turned around quickly, but she could still hear the sounds of Bo changing; to say it was distracting would be an understatement. 

"What's the matter?" Tamsin asked, her voice cracking a little. She busied herself with slipping her own clothes off. "Daddy's palace not up to your standards?"

Bo was silent. Tamsin glanced back to see the muscles tensing under the bare skin of Bo's back and mentally kicked herself. _Nice going, genius_. 

"Sorry," Tamsin mumbled, stepping out of her pants. She moved quickly to pull on the yoga pants and tank top Bo had handed her. "I shouldn't—"

"It's okay, Tamsin," Bo said gently. "I just wish I could have met him under happier circumstances." 

Tamsin turned around, moved by the urge to comfort Bo somehow, but Bo hadn't been quite as fast as her. Bo had pulled on a pair of cotton shorts and was reaching up to slip her tank top over her head. Tamsin traced the flex of muscles under skin with her eyes, curling her hands into fists to fight the urge to feel that skin under her fingers. 

When Bo turned back around, Tamsin had managed to at least partially conceal the desire that burned in the pit of her stomach—or so she thought. Bo's eyes widened a little as they met hers, flashing with a hint of bright blue. 

The silence was fraught with tension. Tamsin smirked to cover her unease. "Someone looks hungry." 

Bo's eyes dropped to Tamsin's lips, her tongue slipping out to moisten her own. She shook her head, dragging her eyes back up to Tamsin's. 

"I don't want to lose you," Bo admitted. She laughed, rolling her eyes at herself. "God, that sounds so cheesy. I just…I don't want to take what life you have left." 

The depth of sincerity on Bo's eyes was disarming. Tamsin chuckled. "You really don't know what you did to me, do you? Back in Valhalla."

Bo frowned. "I gave you some of my chi, to give you enough strength to escape with us." 

"Oh, Succulette, you did way more than that," Tamsin laughed. "I haven't felt this alive in centuries." Not since the last time she'd been reborn. Somehow, whatever Bo did had turned the clock back for Tamsin— _way_ back. 

"That's…" Bo trailed off, shaking her head in disbelief. "That's not possible."

"Try me." Tamsin quirked an eyebrow in challenge.

Tamsin's heart pounded in her throat as Bo stepped forward. She hadn't really thought this through. A part of her wanted to turn and run, as fast and as far as possible, but a bigger part froze her feet where she stood. Bo tilted her head up, slid her hands up over Tamsin's shoulders and wound them around her neck. 

They'd kissed before, but this was no quick, angry feed. Bo's lips pressed warm against Tamsin's, coaxing them apart with soft little kisses. When Bo started to feed, Tamsin was surprised to find it didn't hurt like it had before; the pull was still there, but now that she apparently had the chi to spare it was more of a pleasant, steady tug. 

When Tamsin didn't pull away, Bo deepened the kiss; her hands pressed in against Tamsin's cheeks, her breasts crushing against Tamsin's chest. Tamsin's hands found their way to Bo's hips, fingers digging in hard as Bo fed. 

Finally Bo pushed against Tamsin's shoulders, pulling away with a mixture of desire and shock on her face. "Whoa." 

Chuckling nervously, Tamsin forced her lips into a shaky smirk. "Told ya." 

Bo nibbled on her lower lip, swaying forward ever so slightly before she stopped herself. Despite her obvious hunger, Bo's expression was surprisingly tender. "My life is really complicated right now," she began apologetically. "The last thing I need is to jump into a new relationship."

Tamsin closed her eyes momentarily, absorbing the sting of the blow. When she opened them, she put all of her energy into looking as casual as possible. "It's cool, Succulette. It's just a feed. Don't sweat it." 

"Tamsin." Bo's voice was firm, almost chiding. She waited until Tamsin looked back up to continue, her tone softening. "That doesn't mean I don't want to." 

Swallowing didn't dislodge the lump that had jumped into Tamsin's throat. She wasn't prepared for this, didn't have a clue what to say. 

"There's something here," Bo said, tentatively reaching for Tamsin's hand. "Between us. I'd be lying if I said there wasn't."

Breathing was getting more difficult. Tamsin felt like she was on the edge of a cliff, and Bo's hand warm around hers could be what saved her life—or what pushed her over. 

"I don't know what's gonna happen," Bo continued. "With my dad, or the fae, or any of it. But I know I—I want to see where this goes. I just need time. I need…I need to take it slow."

Despite the tension knotting in her stomach, Tamsin had to laugh. "A succubus taking it slow," she said wryly. Her fingers twitched, but she couldn't bring herself to actually hold onto Bo's hand. "You sure you can handle that?" 

"I can make it through one night," Bo retorted. She shifted her hand, lacing her fingers with Tamsin's and squeezing gently. "Sleep with me?"

Tamsin smirked and raised an eyebrow. "Mixed signals much?" 

"Come _on_ ," Bo grumbled good-naturedly, tugging Tamsin toward the bed. 

Heart racing, Tamsin settled herself as comfortably as possible on the bed. This mostly involved curling onto her side with her back to Bo and trying to pretend that she was lying in the back of her truck, alone.

It wasn't very successful, however—especially when Bo, after shifting restlessly a couple of times, pressed herself up against Tamsin's back, her arm snaking around Tamsin's waist.

"Oh, no," Tamsin said, attempting to extricate herself from Bo's hold. "I don't do that little spoon shit." 

Bo's arm only tightened around her. She nuzzled closer, and Tamsin could feel Bo's smirk against the side of her neck. "You do now." 

Tamsin huffed and rolled her eyes; it made her feel better, even if Bo couldn't see it. Burrowing further into her pillow, she resigned herself to her fate. 

The cuddling wasn't so bad, really. Bo was warm and soft, and as trapped as Tamsin felt by the iron grip around her waist, it was also kind of…comforting. 

It took a while for Tamsin's nerves to calm enough for her to fall asleep, but when she did, she had a gentle smile on her lips.

_end._


End file.
